


Adamant

by aureliu_s



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: After Adamant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hawke in the Fade, Here Lies the Abyss, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-03 06:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aureliu_s/pseuds/aureliu_s
Summary: Everyone's life was affected by Adamant Fortress; even more so the people who lived through it. Or, those who remember someone who didn't.A short, three-mini-chapter ficlet about each ship after my outcome of Adamant.





	1. I. Alistair and Elyse

Adamant had been a reckoning, one neither knew how to handle for a while. Elyse had almost lost him in the Fade; she continuously relived the Inquisitor’s blue-purple eyes looking frantically between Alistair and Hawke, speaking only one name. What if it had been him? She tried to comfort herself in the fact that Alistair would sleep beside her as many nights as possible before they split again. But Varric’s crying eyes and writing hands did nothing to ease her terror. She had expressed her grief for his loss more than once, but each time it felt disregarded, as if an apology was meaningless coming from her. And she could see why. While she and Alistair continued to exist, while their love and their progressive minds and their belief in the Wardens never faltered, Varric and his circle had suffered a loss beyond measure. Their leader, their friend, their lover. How could two measly Wardens be worth that?

Alistair had managed to put it from his mind after a day or two, and comforted her endless times. He held her close at night, something she had sorely missed in her travels west. They had delivered their report to Leliana as a pair, and more often than not sat together in the garden until the sun went down. Elyse was ever grateful for his support. They trained a little at Alistair’s insistence, and according to an exhausted Cullen it helped the morale of both Inquisition troops and Grey Wardens to see their leaders together. Even then, his kisses in the shade and his sweaty arms around her never completely quelled the unrest in her heart. There was only so long she could endure the looks, the whispers, Varric’s absence from the fireplace.

Elyse could hardly think of what she had done if the Inquisitor had pulled Alistair’s name from the hat instead of Hawke’s. Would she have stayed with him? Would she have fought for him? Would  _ she _ have stayed? Alistair would never let her do that. It saddened her to know that his only flaw was a big heart, and it only hurt further to see that the past decade had hardened him. But Skyhold was dim enough without her cloudy thoughts, and there was only so long her love could keep the smiling face at hand. Her nightmares seemed to have a heavier effect on him than her; he was the one staying awake to make sure she slept soundly, to make sure she got her rest. He was doing things she was afraid she could never find a way to repay.

So when it came time to leave, to return west, she was more than happy to get as far away from Skyhold as possible.


	2. II. Anders and Maia

Anders knew he should’ve gone. He should’ve been with her--even if the Fade brought out Justice again, he should’ve been there. At least then he could’ve given himself, instead of Maia. At least then, Justice would be free and home safely, and that would make one of them. He could just imagine her, the oldest sibling, ushering the Inquisitor and the Warden to safety through the rift. He could hear her voice, in the exact tone she would’ve said it in.

How could he tell Carver?

The templar loved his sister, that much he knew. It went unsaid many a time, but it was true. He looked up to her, he admired her strength, her diplomacy in all matters.

 

Varric’s letter had reached up through their “system”--Maia had left only the dwarf with means of contacting her, and Anders was anywhere she was. Except, it seemed, when she needed him most. For not the first time, Anders felt beyond worthless, empty. There was nothing left for him to do except submit to the whispering of the Calling in the back of his head. He hadn’t told her about it, but her almond eyes told him she knew something was wrong.   
“When I get back from Skyhold,” she had said, kissing him once, “you’ll tell me what’s wrong.” She kissed him again, and then hugged him, and left. 

But she never came back from Skyhold, and he would never tell her what was wrong.

She had been haunting his dreams lately, flash images of her running and hiding, a fist of stone shooting from her staff towards an unseen enemy.

A part of him urged him to enter the Fade, urged that she was still alive. But she never came back from Skyhold.


	3. III. Azriel and Sebastian

Sebastian was troubled by the events at the Warden fortress. It occupied his thoughts while the sun was in the sky, and took over his dreams while the moon rose. His faith had mellowed out since his return to Starkhaven’s throne--which he was still unsure was good or bad--but he still had it. He prayed at the statute of Andraste, once running into the commander. They had spoken at length, something that surprised him. The blonde voiced his concern for the Inquisitor, who had been holed up in her quarters for nearly three days. As much as he hated to admit it, Adamant had only given way to more things for the Inquisition to clean up. He urged to Sebastian, in quiet, veiled words, to retrieve their leader for them.

 

Azriel was scattered, to say the least. She knew Sebastian was too, but he had a lifeline--if a bit dusty--in his faith. She found one in the way he wrapped his arms around her at night, but even then she didn’t sleep. The Fade stuck in her mind like a brand. Someone had claimed to see spiders, but what she saw definitely wasn’t  _ spiders. _ She flicked those things away without a second thought. Battling through corpse after corpse, the walking dead kept coming for her. The nightmare, the Divine. It had all been spur of the moment. The graveyard; she had seen her headstone, seen Sebastian’s, Dorian’s, Varric’s. Everyone had a place in the graveyard. She had walked on the soft ground, waded through the slick water. She had left Hawke,  _ Hawke _ . Varric hadn’t looked at her the same since then. She didn’t think he ever would.

The moon closed in slowly. She stepped out of the tub--the only thing that seemed to calm her thoughts after Adamant--and slipped into bed, uncaring. 

Azriel wished she had never set foot in the Fade, never touched the elven  _ foci _ , never came to the Divine Conclave. Then none of this would’ve happened.


End file.
